Deadlines and Backbends

Procrastination.  It's as genetic as my receding gums and MTM (myotubular myopathy) gene carrier status.  My Mom owns The Procrastinator's Handbook.  Has she read it yet?  No!  (That still makes me laugh.)  Am I deadline junkie?  Yes!  Besides a cute editor at the college newspaper, maybe that's what veered me toward journalism.  There's nothing like the rush of making a deadline. Procrastination doesn't mesh well, however, with the New Year resolution to chill.  Case and point: My story on the history of athletics at Westfield State College (ok, University) for Focus, the alumni magazine.  Sounds easy enough except everyone you're talking to is in their 80s.  They're wonderful to talk to (trust me, I adore old people) but tough to get substantial quotes out of it.  So I sent my piece to the editor with an apology.  Not my best, I told her.  I needed a weekend to drive out to Westfield and talk to these has been Uncle Ricos to nail down the real story of stickball and the "Lammers Slammers" days of baseball games on the campus green.

Kripalu and Vinyasa you say?  Yes, I'm speaking yogi.  I've been checking out different yoga and pilates classes at the Healing Tree and frequently dragging my-friend-from-back-in-the-day-who-recently-moved-to-the-Q Heidi with me.  Sometimes we laugh.  Sometimes we can't bend that way.  But other classes - like last night's Beginner Vinyasa - we were rock stars.  We both did back bends for crying out loud.  Mine was not pretty; Heidi's was.  Yoga is helping with my relaxation plan.

At the end of last night's class, Jill the instructor recited a poem about gratitude.  Gratitude can make a meal a feast; a house a home.  You see what I'm getting at here.  I thought it was a really nice way to end our "practice" and a great way to reflect on my way home.  I walked into dirty dishes and unmade lunches but I came home to a warm home, a loving husband and a crazy but sleeping baby.  There are so many things to be thankful for!